Leading the Blind

CHAPTER THIRTEEN GREECE AND EGYPT

Should a tour of Greece be taken in on the way to Egypt, Palestine and Turkey, Murray’s handbook of 1854 would be essential reading, since Baedeker’s Greece did not appear in English until 1889. Murray’s commonsense is early to the fore: ‘In Greece and the East generally, even more than in other countries, let the traveller bear in mind this important hint before starting — he should never omit visiting any object of interest whenever it happens to be within his reach at the time, as he can never be certain what impediments may occur to prevent him from carrying his intentions into effect at a subsequent period.’

After giving advice on protection against vermin Murray makes suggestions on the equipment to be taken: ‘A large and stout cotton umbrella is required as a protection not only from the rain, but also from the sun. A green veil, and blue or neutral-tinted spectacles, are very useful as a safeguard against the glare of the sun. A pocket-telescope, a thermometer, drawing materials, measuring tape, and the like, are luxuries to be provided or not, according to the taste and pursuits of each individual tourist.’

The section on kitting out quotes Edward Lear as saying: ‘Arms and ammunition, fine raiment, presents for natives, are all nonsense, simplicity should be your aim’, though Murray goes on to inform us that those who stay some time in the East, or sail in their own yachts, ‘will often wish to leave some token of remembrance with officials. For this purpose the best articles to provide are a few pairs of English pistols, knives, pocket-telescopes, toys for children, and ornaments for ladies. Prints of the Queen, the Ministers etc., are very acceptable to the British Consular Agents, who are generally natives.’

A few pages of hints concerning health tell us that: ‘The abundance of fruit is a great temptation to foreigners, but nothing is more pernicious, or more likely to lead to fatal consequences.’ As for malaria: ‘No Eastern traveller should be without a small bottle of quinine pills, and a few simple directions for their use.’

Locomotion is by horse. ‘One hour is, on average, equivalent to about 3 English miles; though in level parts of the country, and with good horses, the traveller may ride much faster’, but ‘the usual rate of progress does not exceed from 20 to 25 miles a-day’.

Though hotels existed in Athens and other large places, charging about ten francs a day for full board, it was different in the countryside, where: ‘The keepers of coffee-houses and billiard-rooms (which are now very general) will always lodge a traveller, but he must expect no privacy here. He must live all day in public, and be content at night to have his mattress spread, with some twenty others belonging to the family or other guests, either on the floor or on a wooden divan which surrounds the room. When particular honour is to be shown to a guest, his bed is laid upon the billiard table: he never should decline this distinction, as he will thereby have a better chance of escape from vermin.’

The traveller can take some comfort on reading that: ‘The stranger is almost invariably received with much natural courtesy; and in the domestic arrangements, manners, and language of his hosts, he will find much to remind him of their forefathers. The description in Homer of the cottage of Eumaeus is not inapplicable to the hut of a Greek peasant of the existing generation; while the agricultural implements and usages of the present day are not far removed from those of the times of Hesiod.’

On the inhabitants, after a few words each about the Ghegs, Toskes, Liapes, and Tjames, we are told that the genuine Skipetar (or Albanian) is ‘generally of the middle stature, and of lighter complexion than the Greeks; very spare and muscular, and particularly slight around the waist. The lower classes are filthily dirty, often wearing the same coarse woollen skirt and kilt till they fall to pieces. The peasant women are generally handsome and well formed when young, but hard fare, exposure, and the field labour which they undergo, soon nip their beauty in its bud.’

As for the Greeks, they are ‘often called assassins, robbers, etc.’, says one of Mr Murray’s correspondents quoted in the book, ‘yet I knew the commander of the police well, when in a whole winter at Athens — the population being 20,000 — there was no case of housebreaking or murder. Indeed, my kitchen was cleared of its contents, being an outhouse, and a householder killed in a village; but the one, as most other pilferings, was the work of Bavarians, and the other the crime of a British subject — a Maltese. Greeks are generally called rogues, yet in commerce no Greek merchant of consequence has failed; and both an astute English merchant and a canny Scotch agent have often told me a bill, with three good Greek names to it, is security never known to fail.’

Murray tells us that the Greek character has suffered much from centuries of slavery: ‘All the vices which tyranny generates — the abject vices which it generates in those who quail under it — the ferocious vices which it generates in those who struggle against it — have occasionally been exhibited by Greeks in modern times. Despite their many faults we call to mind their misfortunes and the blood that is in them, and still love the Greeks. Their forefathers were the intellectual aristocracy of mankind.’

Should the British traveller wish to learn more of the country he might with advantage meet ‘Mr. Black, professor of English etc., and husband of Lord Byron’s “Maid of Athens”, who gives lessons in Modern Greek and other languages, and may be applied to for general information with regard to the country where he has been established amidst all its vicissitudes for many years.’

There is no street plan of Athens in Murray, and the traveller may be forgiven for getting lost on his way to the Acropolis. ‘The minor streets are hardly deserving of the name, being merely narrow lanes displaying a marked contempt for all regularity.’

Forty-four lines of Milton and eighteen lines of Byron are given the traveller to read while pausing with wonder on the steps of the Acropolis. Perhaps it will not surprise him to note that, concerning the nature of democracy among the Ancient Greeks, ‘The chief authority for the population of ancient Attica is the census of Demetrius Phalerus, taken in B.C. 317. According to this census, there were 21,000 Athenian citizens, 10,000 resident aliens, and 400,000 slaves.’

The Acropolis suffered in repeated wars, during which the ten Doric columns of the Parthenon were ‘together with the whole of the central building and the adjoining columns of the peristyle, thrown down by the explosion of a magazine of gunpowder, ignited by the Venetian bombardment in 1687’.

According to Baedeker: ‘The Turks entrenched themselves on the Acropolis and concealed their store of powder in the Parthenon. The latter accordingly became the target of the Venetian artillerymen, and on Friday, Sept. 26th, [1687] at 7 p.m., a German lieutenant had the doubtful honour of firing the bomb which ignited the powder and blew the stately building into the air.’

Some distinguished travellers had a fine time archaeologically looting while in Greece, and the museums of Europe have much to thank them for, depending on your point of view, if not your nationality. With an eye, as it were, to the main chance, the Venetian commander, Morosini, ‘after the capture of the city’ — back to Murray — ‘attempted to carry off some of the statues in the western pediment; but, owing to the unskilfulness of the Venetians, they were thrown down as they were being lowered, and were dashed in pieces’.

Then of course there is the issue of the Elgin Marbles, on which Murray says: ‘At the beginning of the present century, many of the finest sculptures of the Parthenon were removed to England.’ More recent archeological investigations (1835) had revealed ‘fragments of columns of a sculptured frieze, exactly answering to four pieces in the British Museum brought over by Lord Elgin …’ as if that might in some way make up for his depredations.

One of the caryatides found in an excavation at the Erechtheum in 1846 was ‘restored to its former place, and a new figure cast in cement was sent out from England in place of the sixth, which was, and is, in the British Museum’.

There was no making amends, for Baedeker in his second English edition says rather tartly: ‘In 1787, the French agent Fauvel managed to secure a few fragments of the Parthenon sculptures for the French ambassador. But to the British ambassador Lord Elgin belongs the discredit of instituting a systematic removal of the art-treasures of the Acropolis. In 1801 he procured a firman authorising him to remove “a few blocks of stone with inscriptions and figures”, and with the aid of several hundred labourers, he removed the greater part of the metopes, the pediments, and the frieze. The priceless sculptures, and their conveyance to England cost about £36,000. In 1816, after various abortive negotiations, during which the value of the sculptures had been set in a proper light, they were purchased by the British Government; and they now, under the name of the “Elgin Marbles”, form the most valuable possession of the British Museum.’

So much for that, but the Germans were no babes at the game, either. Schliemann looted Troy, where excavations were carried on, says Murray, showing commendable understatement, ‘with such success’. Most of the treasures went to Athens, where Schliemann had married a Greek lady, some of the treasures going around her neck.

The Prussians were busy excavating at Pergamon, also in modern Turkey, from 1879 and, according to Hachette’s Eastern Mediterranean, ‘The principal sculptures were removed to Berlin.’ I saw them there in 1970, and very impressive they were, for whole buildings had been taken from their rightful home.

Baedeker tells us in 1894 that a journey to Greece ‘no longer ranks with those exceptional favours of fortune which fall to the lot of but few individuals. Athens, thanks to modern railways and steamers, has been brought within four days of London.’

Even so, conditions had changed little since Murray’s handbooks was written forty years previously, because at places in the interior: ‘The inns are usually miserable cottages, with a kitchen and one large common sleeping-room; nowadays some of them also possess a few separate rooms, which are, however, destitute of furniture, glass windows, and fire-places. The traveller must bring his own coverings with him, as the rags presented to him for bedclothes are almost always full of vermin.’ The point is made that the civilized traveller will find so much dirt and vermin ‘that their deep enthusiasm for treading classic soil and their deep admiration for Greek scenery become seriously impaired’.

Hospitality from the locals had its drawbacks in that ‘consideration for the feelings of his host limits the traveller in various ways, and this is increased by the fact that the modern Greek has generally very little idea of the value of time. The only return the stranger can make for his reception is a gratuity to the servants. In small houses, however, where the traveller has been received without the formality of introduction, the sum of 4–5 dr. is expected for the night’s lodging, while, on the other hand, the visitor may take his ease almost as freely as at an inn.’

Should the traveller prefer to avoid such complications and cruise among the islands: ‘The small coasting steamers are usually very poorly appointed, and the cabins often swarm with vermin. The want of order on almost all the Greek steamers is particularly disagreeable. In spite of the nominal prohibition, the steerage passengers, who are often more picturesque at a distance than agreeable at close quarters, occasionally invade the after-deck, and the notice forbidding smoking in the saloon is sometimes more honoured in the breach than in the observance.’

Baedeker goes on to say that those who do not know modern Greek ‘should not attempt to travel in the interior without a guide’, then gives a facsimile of the necessary contract for engaging one: ‘In concluding the agreement, which is best done in a café over a cup of coffee, the traveller should preserve an air of indifference and should avoid all indications of hurry.’

Taking walks of more than a day or two is practically impossible ‘owing to the climate, the difficulty of obtaining food and shelter, and the badness of the roads. Travellers should never quit the main roads without a guide, partly on account of the savage dogs.’ As a protection against this menace the traveller to remote parts is recommended to carry a stout cane or long riding whip, which will sometimes be found useful in repelling them, ‘though stone-throwing is perhaps still more effective’.

Public safety is said to be ‘all that can be desired. Since the bold acts of brigandage in 1870 (an Italian and three English gentlemen were shot by the bandits) the Greek government has exerted itself strenuously to extirpate this national evil; and only a few isolated cases have occurred near the Turkish frontier.’

Baedeker’s Lower Egypt, 1885, informs us that since the publications of the French scholars attached to Napoleon’s Expedition, Egypt has ‘attracted the ever-increasing attention of the scientific; its historical and archeological marvels have been gradually unveiled to the world; it is the most ancient, and was yet at one time the most civilised country of antiquity; and it therefore cannot fail to awaken the profoundest interest in all students of the history and development of human culture.’

Murray’s handbook of 1858 was written by Sir I. Gardner Wilkinson, who puts the cost of travelling via Marseilles and then to Alexandria by steamer at twenty-seven pounds. Rather than take the French boat, the English vessel is considered ‘far preferable on the score of living, civility, cleanliness, a greater certainty of arriving at the promised time, and the smaller number of extra charges. Complaints are also made of the great confusion on arriving at Alexandria from the admission of so many natives, touters from the hotels and others, on board the French boats.’

Items useful for a journey to Egypt are said to include: ‘Iron bedstead to fold up; pipes, Wire for cleaning pipes, put into a reed; Mouth-pieces and pipe-bowls; Washing-tub; Flags, for boat on Nile; Small pulley and rope for flag; Fireplaces. In the boat going up the Nile have a set put together in a large fireplace with a wooden back; Gun, pistols; Powder and shot; For observations, a sextant and artificial horizon; An iron rat-trap for the boat.’

Notes on health tell us that: ‘Bathing in the Nile is by no means prejudicial in the morning and evening; and, except in the neighbourhood of sandbanks, there is no fear of crocodiles. It is unnecessary to say much respecting the plague, which seldom now visits Egypt; and if it should appear, any one may escape it by leaving the country on the first alarm.’

Most guidebooks go into the practicality of Europeans donning oriental dress, Murray telling us that is by no means necessary, and indeed that anyone wearing it ‘who is ignorant of the language, becomes ridiculous … a person is never respected who is badly dressed, of whatever kind the costume may be, and nowhere is exterior appearance so much thought of as in the East.’

When the ship reaches the vicinity of Alexandria it is not easy to get into port, Murray says, due ‘to the complicated channels which are beset with shoals and reefs. But on making the coast late in the evening, the steamer lays to till daylight, and early in the morning the pilot comes off; for no captain thinks of entering the harbour without him; the buoys laid down by the English in 1801, to mark the passage, having been removed as soon as they left the country.’

The stranger is told that if he escapes the rapacity of the boatmen who, like everyone at Alexandria, are never satisfied, however well paid, ‘he is immediately pressed on all sides by the most importunate of human beings, in the shape of donkey-drivers. Their active little animals may be called the cabs of Egypt; and each driver, with vehement vociferations and gesticulations, recommending his own, in broken English or bad Italian, strives to take possession of the unfortunate traveller, and almost forces him to mount.’

After expatiating on the difficulties of hiring a carriage comes the remark that: ‘It is not only the natives who are rapacious and exacting; the Europeans in Egypt may vie with any of them, and their example is seldom beneficial to the Egyptians.’

Bradshaw, of 1903, mentions the ‘boys (most arrant knaves) driving donkeys at a railway pace’, and tells us that on landing ‘either proceed per omnibus waiting at the pier or jump on a donkey; take your things with you (the boys are very clever, but not to be trusted), and proceed to the hotel’. He adds that we must not let ourselves be ‘tormented to death’ by claims for bakshish.

Baedeker says that the Customs examination is fairly strict, the articles chiefly sought for being tobacco, weapons and diamonds. ‘No fee need be given to the officials.’

For the rail trip to Cairo Murray advised that you ‘take a few sandwiches, or a fowl, and wine, for the journey, rather than pay a high price for them at the railway-station on the road’. Regarding the canal between the two cities, which it took 250,000 men a whole year to dig, Murray says: ‘Another proof of bad management in its execution was the great loss of life among the workmen; no less than 20,000 being said to have perished by accidents, hunger, and plague.’

The best hotel at Cairo was, of course, Shepheard’s, under the proprietor Mr Zech, a hotel still ‘most frequented by travellers’, in Bradshaw’s guide. If you took a house at Cairo, it was as well, said Murray, ‘not to trust too much to the honesty of servants’. He recommends several, however, who are reliable, including Mahmood, ‘formerly in the service of the Duke of Northumberland and Colonel Felix’.

Should you care for a bath, none of the establishments ‘are remarkable for size or splendour. They are all vapour-baths; and their heat, the system of shampooing, and the operations of rubbing with horse-hair gloves, contribute not a little to cleanliness and comfort, though it is by no means agreeable to have to undergo the operation of being shampooed by the bathing-men.’

There were said to be five thousand Jews in Cairo, out of a population of 200,000, and in the Jewish quarter ‘many of the houses of the two opposite sides actually touch each other at the upper stories. The principal reason for their being made so narrow is to afford protection in case of the quarter being attacked, and to facilitate escape when the houses have been forced.’

The population of Cairo had decreased in recent years, and Murray expressed the wish that this had been the case with the dogs as well, because ‘a small number would suffice for all the purposes for which they are useful, and the annoyance of these barking plagues might be diminished to great advantage. Their habits are strange; they consist of a number of small republics, each having its own district, determined by a frontier line, respected equally by itself and its neighbours; and woe to the dog who dares to venture across it at night, either for plunder, curiosity, or a love of adventure. He is chased with all the fury of the offended party, whose territory he had invaded; but if lucky enough to escape to his own frontier unhurt, he immediately turns round with the confidence of right, defies his pursuers to continue the chase, and, supported by his assembled friends, joins with them in barking defiance at any further hostility. Egypt is therefore not the country for a European dog, unaccustomed to such a state of canine society: and I remember hearing of a native servant who had been sent by his Frank master to walk out a favourite pointer, running home in tears with the hind leg of the mangled dog, being the only part he could rescue from the fierce attacks of a whole tribe of town mongrels.’

The attraction for which no number of asterisks would have been sufficient was a visit to the Pyramids, beginning with that of Cheops. ‘The ascent is by no means difficult, though fatiguing to some unaccustomed to climbing, from the height of the stones, while others ascend with the greatest ease; and I have known one, an officer of the Cyclops, reach the top in 8 min. Ladies, who are often dragged up, rather than assisted, by the Arabs, will find a great advantage in having a couple of steps, or a footstool, to be carried by the Arabs, and put down where the stones are high; and this would be not less useful in descending than in going up the pyramid.’

Baedeker is a little more explicit. ‘The traveller selects two of the importunate Beduins by whom he is assailed, and proceeds to where the ascent begins. These strong and active attendants assist the traveller to mount by pushing, pulling, and supporting him, and will scarcely allow him a moment’s rest until the top is reached. As, however, the unwonted exertion is fatiguing, the traveller should insist on resting several times on the way up, if so disposed. Ladies should have a suitable dress for the purpose … At the summit of the Pyramid the patience is again sorely tried by the onslaught of vendors of spurious antiquities and dishonest money-changers, all parley with whom should be avoided.’

Bradshaw tells us, unnecessarily, that ‘the tourist, especially if alone, will be pestered by the Arabs and Arab boys who live near Gizeh, proffering their services as guides, attendants, etc., and punctuating every sentence with a call for “bakshish”.’ One should, however, take no notice of them, but ‘if too pressing or annoying, application should be made to the Sheik, who when appealed to will exert his authority and free the individual, or the party, from further trouble on this point whilst within his neighbourhood. It is advisable to give something to each person whom one allows to render a service, but there should be no indiscriminate scattering of largesse.’

The population of Egypt was said to be about two million, while the Thomas Cook handbook of fifty years later gave it as nearly ten million. Settled conditions after 1882, when the country was administered by the British, perhaps accounted for the steep rise. The Baedeker of 1885 puts the population in ancient times at seven million. ‘This number is quite reasonable in itself, as it is estimated that the country could support 8–9 million inhabitants.’ The latest census gives a population of 55 million.

The local people are seen, in the mid-Victorian Murray, from the point of view of those who hold the purse-strings: ‘The traveller, apart from his ignorance of the language, will find it exceedingly difficult to deal with the class of people with whom he chiefly comes in contact. The extravagance of their demands is boundless, and they appear to think that Europeans are absolutely ignorant of the value of money. Every attempt at extortion should be firmly resisted, as compliance only makes the applicants for bakshish doubly clamorous. Payment should never be made until the service stipulated for has been rendered, after which an absolutely deaf ear should be turned to the protestations and entreaties which almost invariably follow. Thanks, it need hardly be said, must never be expected from such recipients. Even when an express bargain has been made, and more than the stipulated sum paid, they are almost sure to pester the traveller in the way indicated. The Egyptians, it must be remembered, occupy a much lower grade in the scale of civilisation than most of the western nations, and cupidity is one of their chief failings; but if the traveller makes due allowance for their shortcomings, and treats the natives with consistent firmness, he will find that they are by no means destitute of fidelity, honesty, and kindliness.’

An authority on the country, Wallis Budge, wrote a short guide to the monuments of the Nile for the benefit of Thomas Cook & Son’s tourists in 1886. In twenty years, this work had become a thousand-page Hand-book for Egypt and the Sudan, fully the equal of Murray or Baedeker. In the preface Budge states, of course, that travellers in Egypt ‘owe the ease and comfort which they now enjoy in journeying through the country entirely to the efforts of Messrs. Thos. Cook & Son, who were the first to organise the tourists system, and to make Egypt and its wonderful antiquities accessible to all classes. They have spared neither pains nor money in perfecting their arrangements for tourists, and their officers are ever watchful to place promptly at the disposal of those who travel under their care the advantages of rapid and comfortable transit which are becoming more and more numerous owing to the steady development of the country under British influence.’

The last word on begging is a notice, printed verbatim in the handbook, issued by Lord Cromer, and the United States and German Consul General: ‘The attention of the Egyptian authorities has been frequently drawn (in 1906) both by visitors and by residents of the country, to the evils resulting from the indiscriminate bestowal of “bakshish” to the inhabitants of the Nile villages, and other places visited by tourists during the winter season. The intention of the donors is no doubt kindly, but the practice — more especially in view of the yearly increase of visitors to Egypt — cannot fail to be detrimental to the moral sense and the social well-being of the poorer classes of the community. At the present time many of the poorer inhabitants of those towns on the Nile which are most visited by tourists live almost entirely on what they can obtain by “bakshish” during the winter months; the easy means thus afforded of obtaining a small livelihood prevents their adopting any form of labour; and children are brought up to regard the tourist season as the period during which they may, by clamorous begging, enable their parents and themselves to lead a life of idleness for the remainder of the year. The unhealthy tendency of such a system is obvious.’

After more of such advice the section concludes with a plea: ‘Tourists should especially abstain from throwing money from the decks of steamers on to the landing stages or on to the banks of the Nile for the purpose of witnessing the scramble for the coins; such exhibitions are mischievous as well as degrading.’

The writer of the handbook naturally wants tourists to look favourably on Egypt, and to appreciate the benefits the country has to offer, and with this end in view we are told that whoever visits the country for the first time ‘will certainly be delighted … but it is probable that he will not admire the natives with whom he will come in contact until he knows them fairly well’. He strains to give a balanced view by saying that the Egyptians in general ‘have never been accustomed to travel, and they look upon those who wander from country to country as beings who are possessed of restless though harmless devils’. The Egyptian whose character has not been tainted by cupidity ‘is a very estimable individual. He is proud of his religion, but is tolerant to a remarkable degree’, but ‘it must never be forgotten that the strictest Muhammadans despise the Christian faith in their hearts, although Christians are treated with civility’.

Now comes a paragraph, again from Cook’s handbook, which will no doubt find agreement with many people today.

The abolition of corporal punishment, by Lord Dufferin, early in 1883, has had effects which were not contemplated by him. As soon as the whip was abolished the people refused to work, and Lord Cromer says that the period which followed its abolition ‘caused him greater anxiety than any other’ during his lengthened Egyptian experience. Another result was that life and property became insecure, and Nubar Pasha was obliged to appoint ‘Commissions of Brigandage,’ that is, to introduce martial law. The Egyptian had also learned that no one can be punished for a crime unless he is proved guilty, and that proof of guilt which will satisfy the law courts is hard to get. The result has been that large numbers of guilty people have escaped punishment, and through the country the people have little respect for the Law. The inability of the governors to use the whip is the cause of the present state of unrest among a certain class of Egyptians, and it is clear that only corporal punishment will reduce this class to order and obedience.

In 1858 our traveller arranged his trip up the Nile, says Murray, by first hiring a dahabeyeh, which boat was provided with ‘at least two or three cabins and a bath; and the largest have a front cabin sufficiently spacious to accommodate a party of 8 or more persons at dinner. The price depends of course on the size of the boat and the number of men; but a large one, capable of accommodating 3 or 4 persons, generally lets for about 50 to 70 pounds a month. All furnished boats are supplied with divans and other furniture, a canteen, kitchen, fireplace, and all requisites for the journey except provisions.’

The boats are said to be very clean, ‘so that it is no longer necessary to have them sunk before going on board’. Then follows advice on destroying flies, still one of the plagues of Egypt, but much attention is paid to strict discipline in the boat, and obedience to orders, as long as they are reasonable and just. ‘But I am far from advising that constant use of the stick which is sometimes resorted to most unnecessarily: firmness and the determination of being obeyed seldom fail to command respect and obedience; for, when they know you will be obeyed, they will seldom disregard an order.’

It is just as well that ‘however much they may try to impose on one over whom they think to get the upper hand, they never harbour any feelings of revenge. In short, my advice is, to be strict and just, without unnecessary violence, in order to have the satisfaction of being indulgent.’

A system of rewards was suggested, in the event of the crew behaving well. On going up the river, ‘give them a sheep at some of the large towns, or a certain quantity of meat at least, as a reward for past exertions; but some travellers have spoilt them through a want of discrimination, and they now begin to look on it as a right, whether they deserve it or no. This should be resisted; and they should be made to understand that they are to have no reward till they have earned it. They are allowed a sheep no longer; but instead of it a small sum may be given to a crew if they have had much towing and have worked well; though certainly not if the wind has done all the work for them.’

At the end of the journey, when the crew is paid off, ‘they also expect about 24 piastres each if they have given satisfaction; if not, they should be dismissed with no more than 6 piastres each, and, if at all unruly, they should have nothing but an introduction to the police’.

Before setting out for the south a few items of interest may be culled from the various guidebooks on Lower Egypt. At the village of Bebayt-el-Hagar, we are told in Murray’s that the author ‘had the satisfaction of shooting the great enemy of the village, a large wolf, which in broad daylight was prowling about the field that now occupies part of the enclosure of the temple. It had been a great annoyance to the people, and had been in the habit of entering the village at night, and carrying off sheep, poultry, and whatever it could find; so that its death caused great joy among those who had suffered from its unwelcome visits.’

In the Wadi Natrun there were several monasteries, to which Arabs were not admitted, though if they had been they would not have made away with so many priceless Coptic manuscripts as did visiting Europeans. The Revd H. Tattam departed with ‘upwards of 50 volumes; among which was a treatise on Eusebius, not previously known, and on his return in 1842 he obtained four times that number of manuscripts, all indeed that were not used by the monks’.

He presumably received every civility during his stay with them, ‘particularly from the superior of St. Macarius; and I have reason to believe that the other Monasteries are equally hospitable. The room allotted to a stranger at Dayr Suriani is large and well lighted; but I recommend him to remove the mats before he takes up his abode there, otherwise he is not likely to pass a comfortable night, under the assaults of some hundreds of bugs; and he will run a risk of carrying away many score in his baggage, which may continue to torment him’ — though I suppose the conscience did not torment those who carried away such loot in their baggage, a not so novel way in those days of financing one’s expeditions.

Wallis Budge relates that the Revd Tattam sold his manuscripts to the Trustees of the British Museum in 1838, who the same year sent him back to Egypt, ‘to obtain the manuscripts which were still there, and of these he was so fortunate as to secure about 314, which arrived at the British Museum in 1843. In 1845 M. A. Pacho went and lived with the monks for six weeks, and in the end succeeded in obtaining the remainder of the manuscripts, about 190 in number; 172 of these came to the British Museum in 1847, 10 were sold to the Trustees in 1851, and M. Pacho kept back and sold several to the Imperial Public Library in St. Petersburg in 1852. At the present time there are no manuscripts of importance in the Natron Valley, and only those who are interested in archeology are recommended to visit it.’

Setting off down the Nile in his well-appointed boat, our traveller will be captivated by the town of Benisooef, which presents ‘the ordinary scenes common to all large towns on the Nile; among which are numerous boats tied to the shore — buffaloes standing or lying in the water — women at their usual morning and evening occupation of filling water-jars and washing clothes — dogs lying in holes they have scratched in the cool earth — and beggars importuning each newly-arrived European stranger with the odious word “bakshish.” This is followed by the equally odious “Ya Hawagee,” by which the Franks are rather contemptuously dismissed; and the absurd notion of superiority over the Christians affected by the Moslems is strikingly displayed in these as in many other instances. The “Faithful” beggar, baredly covered with scanty rags, and unclean with filth, thinks himself polluted by the contact of a Christian, whose charity he will not condescend to ask in the same terms as from a true believer.’

The people of the Nile do not have the same prejudices against dogs as those of Lower Egypt, though. ‘Some of the fancies of the Moslems respecting what is clean and unclean are amusingly ridiculous, and not the least those respecting dogs. Three of the sects consider its contact defiles; the other fears only to touch its nose, or its hair if wet; and tales about the testimony of dogs and cats against man in a future state are related with a gravity proportionate to their absurdity.’

Beyond Keneh, the author encounters the crocodile, a rather timid animal, ‘flying on the approach of man, and, generally speaking, only venturing to attack its prey on a sudden; for which reason we seldom or never hear of persons having been devoured by it, unless incautiously standing at the brink of a river, where its approach is concealed by the water, and where, by the immense power of its tail, it is enabled to throw down and overcome the strongest man; who, being carried immediately to the bottom of the river, has neither the time nor the means to resist.’

While one village abominates the crocodile, the next place may venerate it, which ‘was the cause of serious disputes with the inhabitants of Ombos, where it was particularly worshipped; and the unpardonable affront of killing and eating the god-like animal was resented by the Ombites with all the rage of a sectarian feud. No religious war was ever urged with more energetic zeal; and the conflict terminated in the disgraceful ceremony of a cannibal feast, to which (if we can believe the rather doubtful authority of Juvenal) the body of one who was killed in the affray was doomed by his triumphant adversaries.’

Thus we come to the great Gem of Thebes (or Gems, for the traveller is informed that he may spend weeks in this area with profit) and, on arriving, ‘horses and asses are readily obtained for visiting the ruins with guides, some of whom are intelligent, and well acquainted with all that travellers care most to see. Though many guides are deserving of recommendation, I am, from my own experience during many visits to Thebes, bound to speak well of the civility, honesty, and other good qualities of one of them called A’wad.’

In 1886 Luxor was still a rundown village, ‘unlit at night, and not in a prosperous condition’, according to Budge. Thomas Cook, in December of that year, inaugurated his line of steamers from Cairo, and from then on large numbers of tourists transformed the place, until it became ‘a town suitable for travellers to live in’. Cook’s improved the waterfront, encouraged local business ventures, and rebuilt die old Luxor Hotel. Trade increased, the streets and alleys were cleaned up, and ‘the natives began to build better houses for themselves, and European wares began to fill the bazaars’. A few years later, ‘Mr. Cook founded a hospital, and hundreds of sick and suffering gladly and promptly availed themselves of the medical assistance which be provided gratis.’

A minor industry grew up in the manufacture of spurious antiquities, and the traveller is warned against buying them, although ‘those who understand them and know how to make a judicious choice, not giving a high price for the bad, but paying well for objects of real value, may occasionally obtain some interesting objects. The dealers soon discover whether the purchaser understands their value; and if he is ignorant they will sell the worst to him for a high price, and false ones, rather than the best they have. Indeed a great portion of those sold by dealers are forgeries; and some are so cleverly imitated that it requires a practised eye to detect them.’

Before describing the wonders of the area Murray protests against ‘the manner in which some travellers visit its monuments, particularly the tombs of the kings, which are frequently lighted by torches. No one should be mean enough to spare a few wax candles for this purpose; and it is mere selfishness to obtain a great light by torches, with the certainty of blackening the sculptures by their smoke. A man should have some consideration for those who come after him.’

During his peregrinations the traveller is recommended to have with him ‘a small supply of eatables, and, above all, of water in goollehs. Each of these porous water-bottles may be slung with string (as on board-a-ship), to prevent the boat-men, or whoever may carry them, from holding them by the neck with their dirty hands; and moreover, they should not be allowed to touch the water, and should be made to bring their own supply if they want it.’

Perhaps the strictures against flaring torches that blot out sculptures and paintings acquires some importance when we read the account of the Great Temple at Medeenet Haboo: ‘The sculptures on the walls of these private apartments are the more interesting, as they are a singular instance of the internal decorations of an Egyptian palace. Here the king is attended by his harem, some of whom present him with flowers, or wave before him fans and flabella; and a favourite is caressed, or invited to divert his leisure hours with a game of draughts; but they are all obliged to stand in his presence, and the king alone is seated on an elegant fauteuil amidst his female attendants — a custom still prevalent in the East.’

This scene is described somewhat differently by Wallis Budge. ‘The walls of the rooms are decorated with scenes in which the king is seen surrounded by naked women, who play tambourines, and bring him fruit and flowers, and play draughts with him.’

The Baedeker of 1892 judges the scene from the strict Victorian point of view, as if Mrs. Grundy, the guardian of morality, is looking over his shoulder. ‘Rameses III is here represented in his harem. The nude maidens with whom he is playing chess, or who hand him one a fig, another a pomegranate, another a melon, another a flower which he smells, appear from the shape of their faces and from the arrangement of their hair to be captive princesses rather than his own children. This supposition is farther strengthened by the occurrence here of several representations of a distinctly immodest character. The vicious propensities of this king are gibbeted with biting scorn on other monuments. He himself appears to have looked with peculiar pride on his harem, which was rich in beauty of all kinds, and to have immortalised its memory in his Memnonium. At all events his reign marks the beginning of an epoch of luxury and immorality, upon which decay followed close.’

Travellers who wanted to stay in their boat as far as Khartoum would have been disappointed, for Baedeker’s 1892 volume allows them to go only as far as Wadi Haifa: ‘It is much to be hoped that the time will soon come when the way will be open as far as Khartoum, which fell into the hands of the Mahdists on Jan. 27th 1885, when the brave Gordon met his death. The possession of Khartoum and the security not only of the Nile-route thither but also of the desert-route from Berber to Suakin are necessary conditions for the gradual civilisation of the Sudan.’

For a description of Khartoum we have to wait for Wallis Budge’s handbook, which appeared after the Mahdi revolt had been put down in 1895. The expedition of Kitchener’s troops up the Nile, their transport and supplies, had been organized by none other than Thomas Cook & Son, which firm had the necessary experience (and fleet of boats) for moving large numbers of people.

At the Battle of Omdurman, which preceded the liberation of nearby Khartoum, ‘the Dervish loss was 11,000 killed, 16,000 wounded, and 4000 were made prisoner’. The Dervish army was ‘mown down’, Budge goes on, ‘by the awful rifle fire of the British and Egyptian troops, and the shell-fire from the gun-boats.’ He tells us later that ‘of the wounded Dervishes from 6000 to 7000 were treated in the hospital which was improvised in Omdurman. Visitors to the battlefield may even this day find weapons and small objects belonging to those who were killed there.’

An architectural description of the Mahdi’s Tomb concludes with: ‘The dome was badly injured in the bombardment of Omdurman on September 2nd., and since the building was the symbol of successful rebellion, up to a certain point, and fanaticism, and had become a goal for pilgrimages, and the home of fraudulent miracles, it was destroyed by charges of guncotton by the British. For the same reasons the Mahdi’s body was burnt in the furnace of one of the steamers, and the ashes thrown into the river.’ In case anyone should imagine that to have been the normal practice of the British towards their enemies he adds that it was done ‘on the advice of Muhammadan officers and notables; the Mahdi’s head is said to have been buried at Wadi Haifa’.

All this would seem to be justified by the fact that: ‘In Khartoum itself business is increasing, and under the just and equitable government which the country now enjoys will continue to do so.’ Dervish rule of the Sudan, it is pointed out, reduced the population from eight million to two million in ten years, a fate much like that endured by Pol Pot’s Cambodia in the present century.